quarta-feira, 9 de fevereiro de 2011

Ma chu Picchu...Mar...is...a...mar...

What shall we sing, my friends?
In what shall we rejoice?
There alone our song lives,
Where our ancestors were born.
On Earth, where they lived...
I suffer here on Earth...
He who gives life conceals

Men in a casket and in an ark....
But shall I see them? Shall my eyes see
The faces of my father and my mother?
Can they offer me their song,
Their words, which I search for?
Here is no one,
They have left us as orphans, here on Earth.